


Saxton and Lassiter

by annabananas



Series: Saxton and Lassiter [1]
Category: Black Dagger Brotherhood - J. R. Ward
Genre: M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabananas/pseuds/annabananas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saxton finds distraction in an unexpected person soon after losing Blay to his cousin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guilty Pleasures - Part 1

SAXTON

 

Tohr’s groan was loud enough that Saxton could hear it in the hallway outside the billiards room. “I thought you came for a visit, not to take over the TV.”

“I’m great at multi-tasking. I never get tired,” Lassiter said 

“Who gave him the fucking remote?” Butch barked.

“No one. The bastard brought his own.” Vishous sounded even less amused that his Brothers. 

“Where the hell is ours then?” 

Saxton paused at the threshold of the room to watch Rhage pulling up couch cushions, clearly looking for the official brotherhood remote control. He shoved V off one cushion, receiving a growl of protest in the process. V stood up and walked towards the bar at the back of the room, moving like a sleek, dangerous predator. His gaze fell on Saxton and although his step didn’t falter, a hint of surprise flickered in his piercing eyes. 

Saxton couldn’t blame him. The Brothers all seemed less comfortable around him since Blay and Qhuinn had moved into a room together. Plus, the King was keeping him so busy lately, thank the Scribe Virgin, that he barely had time to make first and last meal, much less socialize. 

Saxton inclined his head in greeting, not moving from his perch by the door. He didn’t belong but he was confident enough not to care, and more importantly the desire for company had struck him fast and hard. It felt good just hearing other voices after hours in the quiet tomb of the library. 

V pulled the Grey Goose down from the mirrored wall behind the bar and glanced over at Saxton. “You need a drink.” 

It wasn’t a question, but Saxton let out a long breath, considering, before he said, “Glenlivet on the rocks sounds fantastic.”

V prepared three drinks in his focused, efficient manner, and handed Saxton a glass.

“Bottoms up,” V said with a one-sided smile.

“Cheers,” Saxton replied and downed half the drink. 

He scanned the room again, wondering if this was a truly bad idea after all. Lassiter and the Brothers appeared to be in good spirits, despite the tele-torture, and Saxton didn’t aim to bring them down to his level. He wasn’t the best of company lately. Seeing his cousin and Blaylock together, the way they touched, the way they watched each other constantly like they couldn’t bear to look anywhere else, affected Saxton. Even after a couple of months.

He’d assumed Qhuinn would come to his senses about Blay eventually, because he knew that male like a brother, but part of Saxton had been hopeful regardless. Blaylock was a worthy, loving, trusting, incredibly sexy male and anyone would be lucky to claim him. It just turned out Qhuinn’s luck was better than Saxton’s. 

But who was he kidding? Blay had been in love with Qhuinn for years before Saxton came along. He hadn’t stood a chance. So yes, he had anticipated the loss, but that dull, dirty knife twisting through his heart…? It sure left an abundance of jagged edges behind. No easy way to stitch up that mess, even if say, Manny and Jane were both on the case. 

“Jackpot!” Rhage stood up, holding not the remote but a sucker, one side of it slightly caved in. He appeared nothing less than thrilled as he started unwrapping it.

Butch just shook his head at Rhage and started tunneling in the couch himself. “You’re useless, my Brother.”

Lassiter laughed at something on the TV. “I love this show.”

“Really? Honey Boo—this is bad. Even for you. And how did you DVR that? You just got here!” Tohr stood up and started searching the room too, pulling out drawers and scanning each shelf on the entertainment center. 

“I have my ways,” the angel replied smugly.

“There’s gotta be something better on,” Rhage mumbled unhelpfully around his lollipop.

“Nope. Saturday nights there’s only trash and Lifetime re-runs,” Tohr said, then looked up worriedly at Lassiter as “Lifetime” left his mouth.

“Got it!” Butch popped up triumphantly. “It was under the chair. My guess is our special guest kicked it there.”

Lassiter didn’t dignify that with a response, but ceded control momentarily as Butch starting flipping through channels.

“Can I get a pina colada over here?” Lassiter twisted his torso to look over his shoulder at V, but his eyes locked on Saxton. No emotion registered as Lassiter seemed to take a measure of the male, his strange eyes flashing up and down Saxton’s lean frame. 

“I’m not making that pansy ass drink, especially not for you,” V said and sauntered over to sit on the couch, nudging Butch over to make room as he handed Butch a glass of Lag. 

Saxton smiled despite himself and glanced at Lassiter. “I can help you, angel,” he said good-naturedly and stepped behind the bar. 

He could make almost any cocktail, having memorized a detailed bar encyclopedia years ago. Pina coladas were child’s play. As he finished off the concoction, he found he was enjoying himself. Having such a simple, manual task to occupy his mind for a minute was a relief. He topped off his own drink and stepped out from behind the counter.

“Wait! Umbrella,” Lassiter called.

Saxton halted, confused, and then he laughed. “You want an umbrella for your drink?” His eyes met Lassiter’s and something flashed between them. Lassiter studied him again, and a slight smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. “Please,” he said. 

Saxton wondered if the Brothers even kept that kind of thing around, but sure enough he found a small box of folded umbrellas in one of the cabinets. He selected a blue one and laughed to himself as he turned back towards the room. He stopped cold as he noticed everyone watching him. Apparently only V had registered his arrival when he’d first shown up, because now the whole room radiated tension. Saxton closed his eyes for a second and then shook off the unwelcome feeling. He lived here too, at least for the time being, so they would have to get over whatever was bothering them. As if he didn’t know.

“What are we watching?” he asked as he assessed the seating arrangements. 

Butch, Vishous, and Rhage looked entirely too cozy on the biggest couch, Tohr had claimed the recliner closest to the TV, and Lassiter was half lying on a loveseat. The angel shifted into a sitting position as Saxton’s eyes settled on him. There were numerous other small couches and chairs in the room, but they were all pushed further away from the main grouping. Saxton didn’t know the angel, had barely spoken to him, but now was as good a time as any to make nice. Saxton was nothing if not cordial.

Butch spoke up as he changed channels. “We’re watching, uh…this UFC fight.”

Lassiter huffed. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart!? I’m not the one drooling over Beaches and Oprah and shit.”

“That’s quality television, darling.” Using his remote, Lassiter changed the channel to Lifetime and Tohr groaned loudly.

“Fuck, no,” Rhage said and hopped up from the couch. “Reality TV is one thing but I think I hear Mary calling now.”

“Suit yourself.” Lassiter shrugged. “You’re missing out.” 

Lassiter looked up at Saxton as he handed him the pina colada. The angel’s eyes really were unsettling, more so than V’s or even Wrath’s. The irises were silvery-white with neon blue rings encircling them, no pupils at all. It made Saxton feel like the angel was looking through him rather than at him. 

Saxton folded one leg underneath himself so that he sat sideways facing Lassiter as well as the TV. He sipped from his drink and then rested it on the knee of his dark slacks, holding the glass with one hand, and took a moment to study the angel. 

Lassiter seemed completely relaxed, sunk down into the cushions so that his neck rested against the top of the couch, one leg propped up on the coffee table and the other splayed out closer to Saxton. He wasn’t wearing socks or shoes, and Saxton noticed that he had nice feet that were both masculine and elegant in their form. He wore a pair of faded, authentically ragged jeans that hung low enough on his hips that Saxton could see a peak of tanned skin along the bottom of his black muscle shirt. 

Saxton’s eyes traveled past Lassiter’s big hands, the right one holding his drink in place near his stomach, then along the strong forearms and across the defined muscles of his upper arms. The top half of his strangely-colored hair was pulled back from his face by a hair tie, but the rest of his black and blonde locks fell to his shoulders. 

The angel had a striking profile—strong forehead, long nose, curving lips, and a jawline that made Saxton think he could take a punch and not even flinch. Or maybe that was just the general impression the angel gave. The multiple piercings in his ears, eyebrows, nose, and lips certainly helped. He wasn’t wearing his customary gold chains and rings tonight, which gave him a more casual appearance. 

Lassiter looked over at him then, as if he could feel the caress of Saxton’s eyes. The angel looked amused as he held the vampire’s gaze for several seconds. Saxton gave him a slow, sexy smile, not ashamed to be caught staring. 

“Tohrment.” The quiet feminine voice came from the doorway, where Autumn stood. All eyes turned towards her. 

“Hey,” Tohr said softly, his whole demeanor changing. Instantly he was a man smitten, and seeing Autumn with her perfectly curved figure and blonde hair no one could blame him. Even Saxton wasn’t immune to her beauty, but he had always loved fine things. 

“Tired?” Tohr asked, as he walked over to her. He whispered something in her ear, making her laugh, then wrapped his arms around her.

Saxton found he couldn’t look away. There was a kind of exquisite torture to living in a mansion filled with happy couples. He could appreciate the aesthetics of two people in love, their touches like a dance, the push and pull of desire making Saxton ache for what he didn’t have. He’d seen it clearly enough between Qhuinn and Blay. 

Sometimes he wondered if he wasn’t a masochist. What had he been doing with Blay all that time if not tormenting himself a little every day, knowing what would eventually come?

Tohr looked over at Lassiter, appearing torn between his visitor and his female.

“Go on, abandon your company,” Lassiter said to the Brother, but there was a subtle approval in his eyes. “I can entertain myself.” He glanced at Saxton before turning back to the television and changing the channel again as Tohr and Autumn left.

“Hey, Lite-Brite, stop that shit. You’re a guest but hospitality only goes so far,” Butch growled, drawing Saxton’s attention back to the room.

V raised his eyebrows at his friend’s aggressive tone and looked pointedly at Lassiter. 

“I’m upsetting your man,” the angel said apologetically.

“Stop it, would ya? He’s sensitive.” V replied, leaning away from Butch’s glare. 

“Can’t help myself.” Lassiter smirked, giving the impression he knew exactly what he was doing.

Butch jumped up and snatched the angel’s remote, then flopped back down on the couch and scowled at V, which only made the Brother chuckle, affection in his eyes. Butch flipped over to the History channel where a documentary about one of the human wars was playing. The image abruptly changed to a scene from Steel Magnolias, which made Butch howl.

Lassiter actually gasped. “Stop. Stop right there. I can’t not watch this movie when it’s on. It just gets me every time.”

“Whatever, man.” Butch flipped back to the History channel, but in less than two seconds the screen returned to Steel Magnolias. 

Butch looked at the remotes he was holding and back at Lassiter. The angel lifted his empty hands, palms up, as if he were innocent. Butch flipped over to CNN, and seconds later the news anchor turned into a couple making out to the strains of dramatic background music. 

“Hey!” Butch protested, getting angier. 

“So these are your favorite channels?” V asked Butch, fully enjoying himself now. 

“I’m not doing that shit,” the cop said, as if they didn’t already know.

Saxton chuckled, prompting another heated glance from Lassiter. 

Butch abruptly stood up, V grinning near his elbow. The cop looked down at the other vampire. “I’m heading to the Pit. Foosball?”

Vishous nodded and stood up. He looked at the angel and Saxton but his eyes gave nothing away. “You two enjoy yourselves.”

Left alone with Lassiter, Saxton eyed the now empty couch, considering whether he should move. He didn’t particularly want to, so he sunk further into the loveseat and sipped his drink. 

“You sure can clear out a room,” Lassiter said, his gaze now fixed on the big screen. He seemed into the movie but not entirely focused. 

Saxton raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything, pointedly looking at the TV and then back at Lassiter.

“What? They know they like my shows. They’re just not male enough to admit it.”

Saxton actually snorted, the inelegant noise surprising him. It made Lassiter grin, the piercings in his lips pulling tighter.

“What about you, Saxton? Any guilty pleasures?” 

It was the first time Lassiter had said his name, and coupled with the loaded question, it made Saxton almost blush. Almost. He was a male with incredible composure. He turned to the angel, observing that Lassiter’s eyes were hooded now by his eyelids, which made him appear more normal.

“I do like a good vampire movie. The more unrealistic the better—30 Days of Night, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Twilight.”

Lassiter laughed then, the sound coming out deep and full. It was the most amazing thing Saxton had ever heard, powerful and masculine yet utterly beautiful, and it was music to his ears. The most beautiful music he’d ever heard. God, he loved the sound of it. 

“But music is more my taste.”

“Really?” Lassiter said, clearly intrigued. “Music is…Well, I’m a fan too. How about you show me what you like?”

Saxton studied the angel. Lassiter’s look appealed to him, the strong features, the hardened body. Saxton wouldn’t need to be gentle or careful with him. And judging by the interest in the angel’s eyes, he could have him if he wanted him. That made him pause, Blaylock instantly coming to mind, and a thread of guilt ran through him. Which only pissed him off. The redhead wasn’t his anymore. Nothing he did with Lassiter would be cheating. He had to repeat it to himself. He’d never been loyal to a male before, and he was finding it hard to shake the residual habits of his relationship with Blaylock.

The angel was watching him, waiting patiently, a look of pure sex in his eyes. 

Yes, he was exactly what Saxton needed. He wasn’t vampire—or even human for that matter—but something completely foreign and new. Something he could lose himself in and maybe get a part of his old self back too in the process. The angel could be a balm of sorts. 

“I’d love to,” Saxton said.


	2. Guilty Pleasures - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lassiter is always up for a good time and Saxton fits the bill perfectly...even if he does have to put up with some truly awful music along the way.

LASSITER

 

“I’m not feeling this.”

Saxton didn’t answer, obviously enjoying himself enough for both of them. 

“Always liked blues better. Robert Johnson, Leadbelly, Son House.”

Silent, Saxton tilted his head towards him, luminous grey eyes relaxed and nearly half-closed. Lassiter wasn’t sure if it was the Scotch or the music affecting the vampire, maybe both. Saxton had undone the top two buttons of his dark grey dress shirt, rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, and kicked off his socks and shoes. The way he rested back against the couch, loose but still confident, refined even, put Lassiter on edge when he should have been at ease. 

He’d had males before, as often as females. There was a different kind of satisfaction men provided, and he was choosey about them. He liked them tough, brutal even, so that their power pitted against his provided a rush when he pounded into them. To get that kind of submission from someone so able, and to make the other male enjoy every second of it—there was nothing better.

Saxton wasn’t his type. 

Saxton. Sax…the male’s name alone made him think of sex. He was hooked in, regardless of type. That vampire was nothing less than breathtaking, the lines of his face made to please the eye, his tailored clothing hinting at the sleek muscles covering the long, lean body underneath. Ironically, humans would probably call him angelic, Lassiter thought. He made icons of male beauty come to mind: David, Adonis, hell, Robert Redford back in the day. 

Lassiter had never been one of those ass-kissing angels. He didn’t praise and grovel and kiss the ringed hand. This male though, this body, he would worship. All that golden skin and waving blonde hair sculpted back from his face. Stunning. 

It wasn’t just looks that attracted him to the vampire. He expected fragility to come with that kind of beauty, but this male was different. Lassiter had never spoken to him before tonight, but he had absolutely noticed him, usually with the redhead, although lately that had changed. Tohr gossiped like a female when Lassiter got him drunk, so he knew the gist of the thing. Surely the vampire was still hurting from the loss of Blaylock, but he didn’t let it show. Instead Saxton was unwaveringly stoic, appeared indifferent even, which suggested a hidden strength Lassiter couldn’t help but admire. 

Something in him itched to get below that polished exterior. He sensed the broken, beating heart underneath, and the violent part of him wanted to expose it. So yeah, the male made him feel restless. 

The music intruded on his thoughts. Man, that sound was giving him a headache. For some people, lawyer vampire types for example, it might do the trick. The meandering noise only annoyed him. Music should be straight-forward. It should get under your skin, down to your bones. 

“What is this?” Lassiter asked.

“Charlier Parker. “Lover Man.””

“Hmm.” Maybe the vampire was on the right track… Nah, it was hurting his ears. 

Saxton laughed. “You don’t like it at all, do you? Well, he was intoxicated when he recorded it.”

“Why do you like it?”

Saxton closed his eyes and paused before speaking. “It’s as if…he’s talking through the music, through the instrument. Speaking some other language.”

Lassiter smiled. “And do you understand it? The language?”

Saxton opened his eyes and looked at him. “Sometimes.” That gaze was several degrees past intense. “I suspect you haven’t really paid attention to the song.” 

“You’re saying I’m distracted?” Lassiter let his eyes slide over Saxton’s face, lingering on those grey eyes, those full lips. 

“Have you listened to jazz before?” Saxton persisted, although he smirked at the obvious eye fuck. 

“Not when I had free will.”

“Well, relax. I’ll take control.” 

The double meaning seemed apparent when Saxton moved his hand to Lassiter’s knee. The angel’s breath actually caught in his throat. You would think he’d never been touched before. But then Saxton gently pushed off him and stood up, swaying slightly. 

Heat burned through him. He wanted that touch on his bare skin.

Lassiter reached out and grabbed Saxton’s hand, rising off the couch at the same time. The vampire turned, his eyes sliding up Lassiter’s hand to his face. They were about the same height but Lassiter’s shoulders were broader, making him seem taller, or at least more imposing. He looked into those gorgeous eyes, the blonde lashes framing them. 

Saxton closed the distance unexpectedly, pushing his mouth hard against Lassiter who opened for him. He took charge, setting Lassiter off balance for the first time in a very, very long while. Saxton’s tongue moved against his, controlling the kiss, and Lassiter let him. The vampire held his head in place, thumbs resting on his jaw, his mouth warm and inviting. That silky tongue against his own, sucking and stroking, made Lassiter’s thoughts multiply. He wanted more. 

Saxton made a noise deep in his throat that didn’t sound so controlled after all. Then he pulled away and seemed to compose himself, walking over to the sound system. Lassiter watched him go, his eyes tracking him like an animal. 

He felt like he’d won round one. Until the next song started. It was worse than the last one, slow, mournful, torture. Fuck. 

“Refill?” Lassiter asked, desperately needing one himself. 

Saxton walked over the bar, sat down on a stool, and handed him his empty glass as Lassiter moved behind the counter. He started assembling the drinks, trying to block out the awful music. 

“What’s this one?”

“Miles Davis. “My Man’s Gone Now.””

Maybe the vampire was thinking of Blaylock after all. Lassiter wanted his head someplace else. He chuckled at his own thought, and Saxton’s eyes jerked up, brightening. That was better. The mood desperately needed to lighten and he was an expert at that. He grinned at the vampire. 

“I can’t listen to this another second, and it’s my turn anyway. But I’ll go with your theme.”

“Theme?” Saxton asked.

“Man, men. You seem to have them on your mind tonight.”

Without moving from the bar, Lassiter changed the song. One of the many perks of being an angel. Not that it made up for the downsides.

A drum count kicked off a rolling guitar riff, and the song came on full force like a swagger. Much better. Saxton listened intently, and Lassiter noted he didn’t make any pained or disapproving faces. It was more like he was taking it in, considering it, which was kind of surprising. Eagles of Death Metal didn’t seem like his style at all. When the chorus arrived, the lyrics were a matter-of-fact yet silly mantra: “Shit, goddamn. I’m a man. I’m a man. Shit, goddamn. I’m a man.”

Saxton laughed and shook his head. “Nice.”

Lassiter handed him another glass of Scotch and started making a Mai Tai for himself.

“Do you do that on purpose?”

“Hmm?”

“The contemptible drinks, the colorful music, the lowbrow television shows.”

“I don’t know what you mean, vampire. I like what I like.” Lassiter looked at him pointedly. 

Saxton nodded, not appearing to get the implication. He suddenly seemed deep in thought, almost lost.

It made Lassiter’s mind switch back to what he’d been chewing on all day. His own situation, the reason he was here. Visiting his…well, friend was the only word he could think of. Sure, he wanted to check in on the bastard that had taken a year plus to get his shit together. The POS who’d driven Lassiter back to his boss at one point, ready to quit, something he never did. Not that it mattered. He’d been shot down. 

The visit was a distraction, a way to escape the hell he currently resided in. His latest mission, working against the one person he loved, the one person who loved him back instead of just tolerating him, was killing him. If he succeeded, he’d damn her further. 

There was a slim chance he could talk sense into her before the worst of it went down, bring that female back from where she’d intentionally, defiantly placed herself. Stubborn female, cursing herself as a personal “fuck you” to the big guy, like that would bring back what she’d lost. Like that would ease her suffering. If he even had a chance to save her, then forget heaven or a mate for himself or being in his boss’s good graces. There was nothing he wanted more. And there was probably nothing less achievable. 

In a way, he’d needed to see Tohr, to remind himself that some missions worked out, that some had value in the grander scheme. That he had done well at least once. Because the mind-fuck he currently presided in felt like a losing battle.

He looked up to see Saxton still mentally far away. What a pair they made. An exquisite vampire who couldn’t keep a lover, probably still pining for the last one. An angel clinging to his sanity by a thread, which he’d cut in a heartbeat to get his goddamned sister back. 

Shit. Better to think about other things, attainable things. So what if Saxton was still in love with his redhead. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced, that his thoughts couldn't be redirected. It would be Lassiter’s pleasure to try. God knew he needed the distraction. 

“Do I have to fuck you to get your attention?”

Saxton startled, then coughed out a laugh. The vampire didn’t seem to mind the graceless phrasing.

“I believe that would work. But I had something different in mind.”

Lassiter lifted one eyebrow, feeling the gold rings against his skin. By the look in the vampire’s eyes, he was still thinking of running the show. Lassiter wasn’t about to cede control again so easily. 

“My choice now,” Saxton said.

Lassiter moaned when he realized he meant the music. He couldn’t take much more of it. 

“Don’t be concerned. I have a feeling you’ll enjoy this one.”

Saxton sauntered over to the sound system, making Lassiter’s eyes drift down to his ass. 

He recognized Howlin’ Wolf’s “Back Door Man” as soon as the song started, and he grinned. The music had that relaxed sway to it that all good blues had, and the song title didn't hurt either. Lassiter felt the urge to move his body in rhythmic patterns.

“That’s more like it.”

“Yeah?” Saxton said.

“Come here.”

The blonde god strolled over to him, confidence in every inch of his face, sex in every stride. Lassiter couldn’t hold back anymore. He wanted to be all over that sublime body, needed it. 

Saxton stopped in front of the short stool Lassiter had perched on. The angel didn’t waste time, pulling him forward by his hips, burying his face in the soft fabric of that shirt, feeling the smooth abs underneath, smelling cologne and another scent that was Saxton’s alone. He kissed him through the shirt.

A desire to get below that facade, not just the clothes but the fucking wall Saxton put up, coursed through him. He’d caught flashes of the hidden parts, when Saxton smiled or laughed or listened to that shit music. He became a different male. And Lassiter found him entrancing. It would be close to divine to witness that flawless surface crack, taken apart piece by piece, maybe as the vampire writhed under Lassiter. 

In that moment, he was surprised he wanted to give the vampire pleasure more than he needed to take it for himself. 

He gripped the front of Saxton’s pants, moving against the restraining buttons and zipper, practically ripping the trousers apart and letting them fall. Saxton stepped out of them, moved close again. Lassiter unbuttoned the shirt next, starting at the bottom, intent on the task at hand—getting as much skin as possible exposed. Once undone, he pushed the shirt off Saxton completely and paused, taking in the sight of all that golden skin. The delicate contours of Saxton’s shoulders and neck, the defined expanse of his chest, hard nipples, ribs rippling along his sides, the muscles of his lower stomach leading down into his boxers, the erection pressing against fabric.

Lassiter looked up at the angel and licked his lips. Saxton stared down at him, his expression revealing nothing. 

“You with me, vampire?”

Saxton nodded. Lassiter moved his right hand over the silk boxers, massaging Saxton’s erection, before hooking his thumbs under the edges of the material and sliding it down those sculpted, powerful legs. His eyes locked on the hard length at chest level. Looking up again, he ran both hands around behind the vampire, gripping his ass, before sliding his mouth over Saxton’s cock, taking him in deep. 

The vampire shuddered, but Lassiter held him up, pressed tight against that naked body. He was still fully clothed himself. 

The iPod shuffled forward, neither of them caring anymore, and the song was soft and soothing. Lassiter didn’t recognize it. Steady bassline, distinct melodic notes on a piano, and then a male voice sang, “I can give it all on the first date/I don’t have to exist outside this place.” Lassiter would’ve laughed if his mouth wasn’t full.

He ran his tongue along the bottom of Saxton’s erection, pulling back at the same time, and sucked just the head, knowing how good it felt. Then he moved back and forth, a steady rhythm, savoring the taste and feel of Saxton. After several minutes, Saxton braced his hands on Lassiter’s shoulders. He wasn’t there yet but Lassiter could tell he was getting close. 

Abruptly Lassiter pulled away from him and looked up. Saxton was breathing hard, some of that careful composure gone. He was still distant though, and Lassiter was damned if he’d allow that. He stood up, pressed Saxton backward with a palm to his chest. 

The vampire tensed as they stared at each other. “What do you want from me?” 

Lassiter didn’t answer at first. Instead he gripped the back of his muscle shirt and pulled it over his head, tossed it to the floor. He walked around behind Saxton and against him, hard chest to smooth back. He noticed the vampire was just as beautiful from this side. 

He moved one arm around Saxton’s waist, and locked eyes with him in the mirror behind the bar. They looked good together, Saxton nude and heart-stopping, a work of art, Lassiter behind him wearing only jeans, his long hair a mess of tangles, his face and body harder than the vampire’s. 

“I want all of you. No holding back or I’m out.” 

Emotions crossed Saxton’s face quick as lightning—a flash of anger and other things Lassiter couldn’t read. The vampire’s gaze trailed over their reflection, down to the arm that held him in place, resting just above his groin. The embrace forced him to look, to see them pressed together, to know who he was with.

Lassiter raised his eyebrows. No choice but to be fully present. He required that whole body and mind engaged. Otherwise, he wanted none of this. He waited a moment and then moved his hand down to Saxton’s erection. It was still slick enough for him to easily glide his palm over.

That song caught his attention again. Two singers, one male, one female, traded off lyrics in wistful voices, a pause between each phrase. 

“If you want me”

“Let me know”

Then they sang together, “Where do you wanna go?”

“No need for talking”

“I already know”

“If you want me, why go?”

The refrain began again, the voices switching places, the female starting this time. 

Lassiter gripped Saxton in his hand, unmoving, and he watched desire fill those grey eyes. He was still steady, strong, but not blocked off anymore. Something had changed as he looked at the two of them in the mirror. 

That was Lassiter’s answer. He dipped his head to kiss Saxton’s shoulder, trailing lips across the softest skin he’d ever touched. Saxton placed his hand over Lassiter’s on his erection and started moving. The angel let him control the stroke as he placed more kisses at the base of the blonde hairline, along the column of his neck. His free hand glided over Saxton’s bicep, his left pec, then down to his hip. He pressed against the vampire, his own erection aching. 

Glancing up intermittently at the mirror, Lassiter admired the way they moved together, like a precision machine. The muscles in Saxton’s stomach rippled, and he pressed his head to the chest behind him when Lassiter closed his fingers tighter around his cock and stroked all the way to the tip and back. Those elegant fingers clenched around his hand. He moved faster, changing the pressure of his grip when he glided over the shaft, moving his fingers in a caress at the head. 

Saxton’s heartbeat sped up, the rush of blood pounding through him, sounding like music in Lassiter’s ears.

He didn’t stop, just kept stroking and kissing and touching Saxton, getting lost in the sensations. So beautiful, the vampire was so fucking beautiful. Saxton tensed and moaned, almost struggled beneath the ministrations, but Lassiter had no mercy. He moved faster, urgent as fuck and turned on. He didn’t have enough hands for this endeavor.

He knew when Saxton was about to come and he moved his hand over the head, catching every drop of warmth that spilled, letting it saturate his hand. He didn’t stop stroking afterward, but he did slow his movements.

Finally Saxton said, “Fuck, angel, let me recover a moment.” 

Lassiter chuckled. He’d never heard the vampire curse before. He seemed too flawless for that. 

Lassiter released him but turned him around, pressing his lips against Saxton’s, taking more of that intoxicating taste, body right against Saxton’s, tongue inside him. 

It was a reward of sorts, and a thank you.

When he pulled back, Saxton looked almost broken. Lassiter thought he may have taken things too far but he didn’t care.

“You are a pleasure, Saxton,” he whispered. “My pleasure. No guilt at all.”

Some intense, vibrant emotion flickered in Saxton’s eyes. 

The vampire pulled back, grabbed a towel from the bar and handed it to Lassiter to clean up with. He reached for his pants and yanked them up, even though he already had another erection, and grabbed Lassiter’s hand, not saying a word as he pulled the angel after him, down the hallway, into the foyer, up the huge staircase, and towards the bedrooms.


End file.
